


Mirror Mirror

by wocket



Category: American (US) Actor RPF
Genre: M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 07:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wocket/pseuds/wocket
Summary: 1984. Jon Voight visits Burt Reynolds at his Los Angeles home. PWP.





	Mirror Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this September 1983 [Architectural Digest](https://www.architecturaldigest.com/gallery/photos-burt-reynolds-los-angeles-home) article.

“This is Mr. Reynolds,” Burt answered, lifting his vintage French telephone receiver up to his ear.

“Oh, Mr. Reynolds, is it, really?”

“ _Jon_ ,” Burt smiled, recognizing the voice on the other line immediately.

“Hello sweetheart,” Jon said, happy to hear the pleasure in Burt’s voice. “Tell me what’s new.”

“Just wrapped on the sequel to _Cannonball Run_. Hardly been back in Los Angeles a week.”

“That another one with Hal?” Burt pretended not to notice the hint of jealousy in Jon’s voice. Burt’s stunt double and best buddy Hal Needham had lived with him for almost eleven years but Burt had a big heart. Jon wasn’t exactly Burt’s type, a fact which he suspected years ago, but that didn’t mean Burt had fallen for him any less. Jon was different than the other men Burt had been with; he was sensitive, thoughtful, intellectual.

“You know it. I get the feeling it’ll be the last one for a while, though,” Burt added. That probably made the other man happy to hear. Jon acknowledged what Burt’s movies were doing for the South, but Jon was always going on about taking more serious roles, more challenges. “Look, you should come by. I want you to see the new place.” Burt had just bought a multi-million dollar house in Beverly Hills.

“You’ve got room?”

“I’ve always got room for you, Jon,” Burt said, real sweet. “We’ll christen the place. How soon can you get here?”

*

Burt was shirtless when he answered the door of his new home, wearing only a pair of blue bellbottoms. He grinned at Jon, one of his classic disarming smiles.

“It’s been a while,” Burt said casually, though he was unbearably pleased to see Jon Voight on his doorstep. 

Jon licked his lips, dropped his bag, and then closed the distance between them with a tight hug. “Too long,” he agreed, feeling at home in Burt’s arms.

“Come inside. I’ll give you the tour,” Burt said, holding the door open for Jon.

It was a true bachelor pad — _nouveau macho_. There were elements of Indian design mixed with Western influence, a sort of rustic Southwestern vibe. There were paintings on almost every wall, and the most beautiful, elegant tile Jon had ever seen. 

“Follow me,” Burt said to Jon, leading him around the house. Burt finished the tour in his bedroom, done up in an Art Deco style with cream-colored furniture and wood accents.

“It’s something, it’s really something,” Jon said, impressed.

Burt watched with a satisfied look as Jon looked around, taking everything in, from the intricate tilework to the mirrors on any available surface. There were even mirrors on the ceiling. 

After a while he stopped looking at the details on the house and started looking just at Burt. It was clear the attention was welcome. 

Jon sidled up to Burt, eyes focused on his mouth. “I missed you,” Jon admitted, unable to wait any longer. 

Burt took Jon’s face in his hands. He was pleased with the way Jon relaxed when he touched him, and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

Jon skimmed his hands over Burt’s chest. He looped his lanky arms around Burt’s neck and looked him up and down.

“Well?” Burt asked, watching Jon watch him.

Jon pecked Burt’s lips. “I like the moustache.”

“Everyone likes the moustache.”

Jon smiled at that, and Burt kissed him again. He always tried to make time for Jon, but they hadn’t seen each other in months. Burt slid a hand underneath Jon’s shirt. They’d both put on a little weight since the last time they’d seen each other, were softer around the edges. 

Burt dipped his mouth to Jon’s to taste him, slipping his tongue past Jon’s lips. He used the hand on Jon’s cheek to pull him to the perfect angle. Burt moaned into Jon’s mouth. The taste of his old lover was sweet.

“Forgive me for not wasting any time,” Burt laughed. He reached up to take Jon’s hand, but instead of leading him to the bed, led him into the dressing room. 

Burt flipped on the light. There were mirrors on all of the walls, and the countertop was done up in dark blue tile.

Burt captured Jon’s mouth in another kiss.

“What —?”

Instead of answering, Burt pressed Jon up against the countertop. He started to press little kisses to Jon’s jawline, working his way to Jon’s mouth. 

“Get this off,” Burt insisted, practically ripping the buttons off Jon’s shirt. He was in no mood to dally. Jonny revved Burt’s engines, got him going real good. He always had.

Burt leaned in and nuzzled Jon’s neck with his nose, getting a good whiff of his cologne. Burt pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the white skin there, working his way down Jon’s bare chest as he pushed the shirt from Jon’s shoulder. 

Jon ran his palms over Burt’s chest, his fingers idly playing with the dark hair there.

Burt, who was already shirtless himself, shimmied out of his bellbottoms. His big hands worked at Jon’s fly, and after getting his pants off, Burt gripped Jon’s hips and spun him around so that he was facing the mirror. He stepped up behind Jon, watching their reflections.

“Look at you,” Burt said, pleased. He admired Jon’s form in the mirror, dropping a kiss onto his shoulder. He crowded the taller man up against the countertop so that they were both forced to face their reflections in the mirror.

Jon braced his hands against the edge of the dark countertop. He let out a noise that was halfway between a groan and a whimper when Burt slipped a finger inside him.

“I’ll take good care of ya,” Burt said, smoothing his other hand across Jon’s sides. He started working the finger inside of Jon, adding a second when he felt Jon was ready.

Jon was responsive, and Burt got a kick out of the look on his face, wanton and desperate. Jon probably hadn’t expected things to go this way so soon, despite their history, but Burt had missed him, too - to say the least.

Burt lubed up his cock and slipped it inside Jon, bending him over until the angle was just right. He thrust forward, pressing his dick deeper into Jon. Every inch was slow and agonizing until he was inside him completely.

Burt started to move. He kept up with a steady, driving rhythm, fucking Jon until his cheeks were pink and his hair fell in his eyes. He leaned in, breathed in the scent of him. Burt nosed the back of his neck.

After a sharp thrust, Burt reached for Jon’s chin and forced his head up, forced him to look at their bodies in the mirror. He kept his thumb and forefinger holding Jon’s head up. Burt loved the way his body looked wound around Jon’s, got a thrill from seeing Jon underneath him. 

Losing focus, Jon’s head fell lower, his eyes falling shut and his chin sinking toward his chest.

Every time his head started to droop, Burt forced Jon’s chin back up, making him take in their reflection. “I said _look_ , baby,” he commanded. The sight of their bodies pressed close in the mirror turned Burt on. He wanted Jon to see it, too.

Jon’s parted lips were pink and full, swollen from Burt’s kisses, and his skin looked soft and white where Burt gripped his side with strong fingers. His eyes could barely stay open, and he looked wrecked. Jon’s smooth chest was flushed, and there was sweat glistening on it, his body was braced by Burt’s. His hips pushed into the countertop with every swift, firm thrust of Burt’s hips. 

Burt watched their reflections with an intense focus. He studied their bodies as they moved together, watched the way sweat beaded on Jon’s brow, the way the muscles in his forearms tightened as he maintained his grip on the dark porcelain countertop. He watched his own tanned body wrapped around Jon’s, pressed up behind him, watched the way the force of his thrusts snapped their hips together. They were strong, masculine, moving together perfectly. 

Jon made little murmurs, small sounds that barely escaped his mouth. Every little whimper turned Burt on, and he gripped Jon’s hips harder just to hear what it would do to him. “You feel so good,” he growled. He slapped Jon’s ass, leaving a stinging red handprint on Jon’s pale skin.

Burt thrust harder, keeping Jon pinned against the counter with every whip of his hips.

Jon locked eyes with Burt in the mirror, letting his body go lax as Burt pounded into him. Burt was close, a dark half-lidded look in his eyes. Jon pushed back on the counter and raised his hips to a new angle, trying to work himself back onto Burt’s dick.

Burt changed his pace, slowing down and striking deeper. He pulled Jon back onto his cock with a moan and came inside Jon, tipping forward, pressing his forehead to the back of Jon’s shoulder. After a few moments he pulled out, a hand braced against Jon’s lower back. They remained in place.

Jon reached behind him, touching his hand to Burt’s warm, bare skin. 

Burt covered Jon’s hand with his own. 

They both stood there, leaning against the countertop and against each other, catching their breath.

“Come to bed with me,” Burt pleaded softly against his skin, though he had a guest room if Jon denied his request, although at this point it seemed unlikely. 

Jon turned and wound his arms around Burt’s neck.

“I think I will,” he flirted. After a slow kiss, he followed Burt back to the bedroom. 

Jon sat down on the edge of the cream-colored bed while Burt went for the light. It was almost a disappointment to not be able to see the details of Burt’s handsome body.

Burt pushed Jon onto his back against the covers. Losing all the urgency from earlier, Burt kissed him with a slow, determined touch. He moved his hands across Jon’s hipbones, then down lower over his thighs. 

Burt kissed a dark freckle on Jon’s pale thigh, then turned his attention toward his cock. He gripped the base and took the head into his mouth, teasing Jon with his tongue. After licking a wet stripe over his skin, he swallowed his length down. 

Burt’s hands gripped Jon’s thighs, and he pushed Jon’s legs further apart, taking Jon down as far as he possibly could. He moaned around Jon’s member. He licked and suckled at Jon until the blond was fisting his hand in Burt’s hair, begging for release.

Jon clawed at Burt’s shoulder, fingernails scraping against his skin as he reached for Burt, tried to signal that he was close, but Burt only gripped him harder, swallowed him deeper. Then Jon was coming down his throat, trying to disguise his moan.

Jon fell back against the covers, spent. He reached for Burt blindly, stealing kiss after kiss.

“Your mouth… you’re damn near perfect. I don’t know if I should be proud or worried,” Jon teased.

Burt winked at Jon, making his way back up to Jon's mouth for a kiss.

Burt held Jon to his chest. “We’re not so young anymore, are we?” Burt said against his blond hair. 

Jon didn’t have an answer. They’d seen each other less and less over the years, despite their fondness for each other. It felt like it had been ages this time.

Jon dragged his fingertips over Burt’s skin, through the dark hair on his chest.

Burt murmured something into Jon’s hair. “You ought to come by more often,” Burt chided Jon sadly.

Jon nodded. He had his own reasons for giving Burt space, one of them being the fear that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting too close. “You’re a busy man.”

Burt tipped Jon’s chin up and kissed him. “Never too busy for you, Jon.”

“Okay, okay.” 

“I mean it.” Burt squeezed Jon. “You’ve been busy yourself.”

“Mmm, the play?”

“That blasted thing, yeah. I was going to do the picture and then they replaced me with Cassavetes.” 

Burt stroked his thumb across Jon’s sharp cheekbone, taking in the disappointed look on his lover’s face. He didn’t know what to say. 

“I want to direct, Buddy, I know I can do it.”

“I know,” Burt agreed. “I know you can. But this industry… she’s a bitch.”

Jon steamed a little. He turned away from Burt. Maybe he didn’t think Burt got it; Burt had been asked to direct a movie over eight years ago. 

“ _Darlin’_ ,” Burt pleaded. He kissed Jon’s shoulder. “I know you have it in you. But Cassavetes has a dozen movies under his belt, and the studios can’t argue with that. That’s called a track record."

__

__

“Damn it, I got it, Burt,” Jon said, frustrated. “I just wish they’d have trusted me, that’s all.”

Burt nodded. He understood. He rested his chin on Jon’s arm and settled his hand on Jon’s abdomen. Jon’s skin was warm to the touch.

“I’ll come back from this, you’ll see,” Jon said, determination flaring in his voice. “I’m going to work even harder next year.”

Burt stroked his thumb past the fine golden hair underneath Jon’s navel. “I know you will.”

Jon seemed to relax, and he reached out for Burt and kissed him, sighing into his mouth. He looked into Burt’s brown eyes. “We both need a movie, huh?”

This time Burt had nothing to do but nod. They both might need a movie, but they had each other in the meantime.

“Remind me to show you the pool in the morning,” Burt said into Jon’s golden hair, with dreams of seeing Jon laid out underneath the sun. How happy he was to have the man in his arms once again. 

“Anything you want,” Jon whispered into the dark.

With a gentle touch, Burt kissed the words from his mouth.


End file.
